


Promises and Regrets

by my_chemical_romanoff



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, angst but kinda fluffy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:47:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9217223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_chemical_romanoff/pseuds/my_chemical_romanoff
Summary: Edward promised to visit Gertrude Kapelput's grave during Oswald's stay at Arkham. He never abandoned that promise, even after he and Oswald have drifted apart.





	

              “Forgive me since it’s been a while,” Edward began, removing his hat as he knelt before a weathered gravestone. “I hope this makes up for it,” he announced, setting a bouquet of fresh lilies on the bare ground. They managed to take away some of the gloom of the dying grass. Edward felt a pang of guilt for the unvisited grave, but he always did his best to uphold an old promise. “The weather is getting colder, isn’t it, Mrs. Kapelput?” he said with a smile as he rose to his feet. “Still, it’s no excuse for my absence,” he added. “I was feeling particularly sentimental today,” he continued. “Thinking about your son.” Edward paused. “We never did tie up those loose ends. I’ll forever regret that.”

He exhaled, a visible breath passing from his lips. “I’m to blame for that, though,” he stated. “I was unsure of my feelings for the longest time. It was infatuation at first,” Edward recalled. “You raised quite a cunning young man,” he grinned. “He didn’t want me standing too close, yet fate wanted us to be closer.” The memories made Edward long for the brief period he and Oswald lived together in his cramped apartment. He missed the messes Oswald would make, and the nagging phone calls about a clogged toilet or the missing spicy mustard. “I was afraid to confess how I felt. And the timing never felt right… Excuses,” he sighed. “Then I learned that Oswald was in love with me. Not from his lips, though…” The painful thoughts Edward fought so hard to keep at bay began to creep in. “I wish he told me sooner. Or that I was braver.” Edward looked to his right with a soft smile. He couldn’t help but feel that he was being watched. The sense was familiar, a comfort, especially in a dreary graveyard. “Oh, dear, your ears must have been burning.” Edward was answered with silence. He turned to Gertrude Kapelput’s grave and reverently bowed his head. “It was lovely to chat with you, Mrs. Kapelput. ” He turned to his right. “I wish I could feel her presence,” Edward said as he dropped down to one knee before the next headstone. “Perhaps fate will only allow me to feel yours.” Edward outstretched a gloved hand to pat the slate headstone before him. “Not even death can keep us apart, can it?” Seeing Oswald’s name etched into stone was a sight that would forever haunt him. “I’m so sorry, Oswald,” he breathed. “We never should have parted as enemies.”  Edward found himself on both knees as his fingers gingerly traced Oswald’s name. “I could have saved you.” The words caught in his throat as his vision blurred. Edward tightly shut his eyes, allowing hot tears to warm his cheeks.

He swore he could hear Oswald softly laughing. Though it was most likely the wind, Edward eagerly accepted the impossible- that his old friend was with him in spirit. “You’re right,” Edward smiled, his eyes resting on the ground. “I always burden you with what could have been…” How many times had he wasted apologizing to a block of stone? And how many more years would he waste on guilt? Twenty? Thirty? Until his dying breath? At least then death would reunite him with Oswald. Edward glanced up, his heart longing for a vision of his old friend. A grey sky was the only thing staring back at him, but a mental image of Oswald smiled for him. What he would give to see a physical manifestation of his old friend…

His slender frame lurched forward as gloved fingers clawed at the dirt. “I’m so sorry!” he choked. “So sorry, Oswald!” Tears freely fell from his eyes. Edward’s heart grew heavy, and a mental image of Oswald was frowning in disapproval. How much of his apologizing and moping did Oswald’s ghost have to listen to? Mrs. Kapelput’s spirit was also surely hurt by Edward’s depressed mood. He didn’t want to be a burden, especially to the man he loved. His fingers relaxed and he sat back on his haunches. “I’m sorry, but mourning is a natural healing process,” he murmured. “I don’t think I’ll ever reach acceptance… Nevermind,” he quickly added, shaking his head. “You’re not really here. Just crazy Ed coming back,” he breathlessly mused. The air around him stilled. “I wish you were here, Oswald.” Slowly, he rose to his feet and turned to Mrs. Kapelput’s grave. “Forgive me, but this is why I rarely visit…I find myself so riddled with guilt…” The corner of his lip twitched and he felt something warm against his gloved hand. Edward glanced to his right and for half a second, he swore he saw Oswald standing at his side with a smile. The apparition was gone far too soon, yet it was just long enough to lift the weight gripping his chest. He continued to blankly stare where Oswald briefly stood. Though he was gone, his presence lingered, and a gut feeling was telling Edward that his friend didn’t want him to worry. “I’ll visit again soon,” he promised Oswald and his mother. “And I’ll do my best to be in good spirits.” He paused. “I never was, am always to be, no one ever saw me, nor ever will. And yet I am the confidence of all, to live and breathe on this terrestrial ball.”

With one final glance at Oswald’s grave, Edward placed a small folded piece of paper labeled with his signature green question mark.

**Author's Note:**

> I blame my angst-ridden Nygmobblepot dreams.


End file.
